The Diary
by The Magical Illusion
Summary: In response to sentence challenge on NK boards. One-shot.


**One of three ideas I had in response to the sentence challenge over on the NK boards. And unfortunately I feel it isn't the best, perhaps one of those that looks good on paper but when actually written its a bit meh. It doesn't really have a point... but then it doesn't really need one.**

"Five bucks says I win."

Noah looked at his friend, raised one eyebrow in consideration, and nodded his agreement.

"But..." he started, stopping Kit mid grin with a finger pointed upwards and both eyebrows raised, "if _I_ win, then... I get to read your diary."

Kit pursed her lips in thought, if Noah got his hands on her diary, then it was likely that she would drop dead that instant with the shame of it, but then the prospect of taking his money amused her. Of course, possible amusement is worth risking possible death for, and besides, she _never_ lost.

"Deal," she announced, laying the cards out on The Palace's kitchen table.

When she'd finished, they tossed a coin for turns, which Noah won. After a moment to think, he carefully selected a card from the edge of the square Kit had made and turned it over. An 'ace'. He turned another over, another 'ace'.

He grinned smugly, "You will notice that I have made a pair Katherine." Kit had no idea why Noah suddenly felt the need to speak posh whenever they played this game, but she liked laughing at him nonetheless. "I have noticed," she replied, giggling.

He picked again. Another pair.... And another.

Kit frowned. This wasn't supposed to happen, she never lost Fishes.

The minutes past, and soon Noah had cleared the table, leaving Kit's jaw to swing freely from its hinges in shock. Noah grinned, proudly putting his wad of cards back into their box, before doing the same with Kit's four.

He sat back down. "Hand it over then." Kit reached for her diary from the shelf behind her, turned around... and closed her arms over it tightly. Noah smiled; he knew Kit wouldn't give it up without a fight. Had he known exactly _why_ she wouldn't, and exactly _why_ she didn't want him to see it, he might have let it go. Unfortunately for Kit, he didn't, so she had to come up with a plan.

"You cheated," she stated, defensively.

"Yeah right Kit."

"Well, how else do you explain that practically every two cards you picked up matched?!"

"Beginners luck."

Kit snorted inelegantly, "Yeah, sure. Look, I used to play this game all the time with Scott and Dad, I always won."

"Have you ever considered that they might have been _letting_ you win?" Noah smirked.

Kit's mouth hung open again, not only had he cheated, and then denied it, but he'd shattered one of her childhood illusions as well.

"C'mon Kit, just give it here."

"No." She closed her arms around the diary more tightly, feeling the corners digging into her skin. "No way are you getting hold of _this_ baby."

"Oh I think I will Kit. And if you wont give it to me, then I'll have to come and get it myself." Kit's face fell. Noah chuckled and launched himself across the table at his friend.

Kit dived out of her seat at the fastest pace Noah had ever seen her move. She ran into the lounge, gripping her diary firmly, with her friend hot on her heels. They stood at either end of the couch, each waiting for the other to make a move, feet apart, arms out slightly, John Wayne style.

After almost half a minute had passed at a standstill, Noah decided to make a move. He sprinted two steps to the right, making a grab for his friend. She ducked away from his outstretched arm and circled around the couch to the other side. He moved again, lunging in front of the couch... losing his footing slightly... tripping over his size 10s... and falling flat on his face.

Kit doubled over with laughter at the sight of her friend flat out on the floor. Noah took advantage of this. He clasped Kit's ankle, sending her falling onto the couch in fits of laughter with her hands over her face. He dragged himself up off the floor put a hand on each of her shaking arms. Kit turned away as he made another grab for her book. He needed another plan of action.

Kit squealed and shrieked as Noah tickled her under her arms, making her relax her vice like grip on her diary ever so slightly. But as he reached out a hand for it, she was too quick for him again and managed to wriggle from underneath him, so she was facing him, slightly on top. He grinned and put his hands to work, tickling her again. "NooooAAAh!!" she screamed, trying to keep herself together whilst holding onto her diary "no no NOOO AH, get off Ahh, no noOO!!"

They carried on with their play-fight, their cheeks hurting from laughing so much. Tears of mirth started to roll from Kit's eyes. Noah noticed this, and in her weakened state, Kit couldn't stop her friend from getting on top of her. She wriggled away so her back was facing him.

He reached his arms around to her front, still laughing, and clutching wildly and clumsily for the book. Kit yelped as he grabbed hold of her stomach a little too hard and, as he stopped and wondered what he'd done, she wriggled away slightly, only to be pulled back moments later by two very strong arms. She tilted her head back and smiled up at him, her eyes dancing.

Her diversions wouldn't work. Noah tried again, grabbing what he hoped would be the book, but what was mainly Kit, all over. His hand went to a large squishy mound of skin. He felt it a little more, squeezing slightly, it was definitely skin. He hadn't realised that Kit had put that much weight on. "Chubs" he teased playfully, tugging Kit's fat up and down.

Kit yelped in pain, jumped up and turned around to face Noah. "Get you HAND off my TIT!! She screamed, flying her hand backwards to seemingly build up for a punch.

Noah's cheeks were the colour of his very red motorbike long before Kit got to 'tit'. He looked at her hand. 'No', he thought. The hand, no, the _fist_ moved closer. 'No, she wouldn't, she's a girl'. Closer. 'She couldn't'. Closer. 'She wo...'

BIFF

"Ahhhh"

She would.

She had.

As Kit's swinging right hook connected with Noah's jaw, he stumbled backwards. His hand went to his mouth and he yelped in pain..

"What the HELL did you do that for?!" he questioned, tears coming to his eyes, but being blinked away. A shooting pain stabbed through his jaw, it hurt. He turned around and took his wounded jaw and his wounded pride into the kitchen. Kit had caught him with a good punch, a really good punch. Though he would _never_ admit it to her.

Kit was shocked, "I'm sorry, are... are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," he weakly smiled at her apology, and reached for an icepack out of the fridge.

"Good. Then you can tell me what the hell you were playing at before."

He was taken aback by her sudden change of tone. "I... I didn't know."

"How fat do you think I _am_ Noah?!"

He jumped slightly at the question. "NO, I just... I..."

"You've obviously not had your hands on many tits have you," she half teased, but neither laughed.

"You didn't have to hit me," he mumbled to the floor.

Kit smirked, knowing she'd won. "It was a good punch though, wasn't it."

Noah frowned and glared, before pressing the icepack to his face, much to Kit's amusement.


End file.
